Against all the modern cultural odds, I choose to live my life as a person of faith. How do I pass that on to my children, in this age of corporate influence, competitive birthday parties, and, an expanding multicultural reality?

In our fallibility, it’s possible – quite possible – that we misinterpret a few verses at the peril of disregarding the central teaching of those you profess to be your savior – Love your neighbor as yourself. Notably, that savior never said a word about homosexuality.
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When life hits you with unimaginable tragedy, when one day your spouse is there and then suddenly he is not, and you are faced with being a single parent to a little girl who wants to know where her Daddy is, you do what you can. You put one foot in front of the other. You take care of that little girl. And when you can, you share your story, because that is one of the things we must do in order to heal from these kinds of wounds.

In My Daddy Is In Heaven With Jesus, author Rebecca Crownover takes the brave step of not only getting the story out of her, but getting it on to paper, and eventually published.

Forty-one years ago today, the Supreme Court affirmed the most precious kind of liberty there is: the ability to exercise one’s own conscience and do one’s own moral discernment. Roe V. Wade took a practice that women have been doing for aeons, and made it formally legal, and therefore a great deal safer. So today, I celebrate a landmark decision that has saved countless women’s lives. Maybe even my own. …

This time of year, this skeptic will happily watch the children I have blessed as babies play roles in the pageant. I will explain to my own children what the nativity scene in the living room is for, and patiently allow them to add the cat, the cow, and (sorry, Mary), maybe a pig to the stable.

And, yet. “I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it”